


how to fall in love with your techie in five weeks (and how to ask him out)

by spacesix



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Trans Gavin Free
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-04 20:47:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11563038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacesix/pseuds/spacesix
Summary: Ryan Haywood was looking forward to two things: being in the school musical, and graduating. He was not looking forward to working with the new crew member who seemed to be able to do nothing and everything at the same time. Until he was.





	how to fall in love with your techie in five weeks (and how to ask him out)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone in the group chat and all of you who read and comment and kudos my stuff for putting up with my sad ass. Yall are the best and I love each and every one of you so much

**_April 24th_ **

“You can’t be in here. If you want to see the show it’s not until next month.” Having students try to bunker down in the theatre to cut class or smoke or make out was a common problem, especially when they were starting up another show and the building had been completely empty for the few weeks prior. That doesn’t mean it got any less irritating to have to yell at kids to get the hell out every day, which happened to be what Ryan was doing at this very moment. 

“I have a meeting with a teacher an’ he said wait here. It’s not like I’m in anyone's way.” He didn’t even look up from where he was typing away furiously on his phone when he spoke. 

“You still can’t be in here; our department has this place booked out and your meeting will have to happen somewhere else,” Ryan said, growing even more annoyed at being brushed off. The kid typed a few more seconds before sighing and shoving his phone into his back pocket. 

“Look- James, right? from English?- Mr. Simmons asked me to meet him in here after school today, and as far as I’m concerned he’s _your_ director. I think I get to wait in here.” 

“Ryan, actually,” he noted the brief look of confusion and guilt that flashed across his face, but barreled on in his speech. “And fine, but even if you’re allowed in here doesn’t mean you get to be on your phone. There are signs everywhere saying ‘no cell phone use’ cause it’ll mess with our systems.” 

“That’s a load of rubbish,” he snorted, “phones have got nothing to do with your stuff not working. Tech just says that so you pay attention and don’t put extra light on the stage during-”

“James! Perfect timing. I see you’ve met Gavin already.” The boy— Gavin, apparently— quirked a questioning eyebrow at him before turning towards the director, who just arrived. “He’s our new lead technician.” He turned to Gavin next. “Lindsay and Trevor, my assistant directors, should be here fairly soon; one of them can show you around the booth and the storage rooms while we finish setting up. They’ve both done tech for quite a few years themselves, so they should both be able to teach you whatever you don’t already know.” 

“Alright, top. Thanks Mr. Simmons.”The director shuddered at his words. 

“Ugh, don’t call me _Mr. Simmons_. I’m not that old. Just call me Simmons.” 

Ryan gave him a flat look. “You are that old, Simmons. You were complaining in class earlier about how it took you three tries to get out of bed this morning and that your hair is graying.” 

“…shut your mouth and go get in costume, Mr. Haywood, or I’m banning you from rehearsals for a week.” 

“Is that supposed to be a threat?” Ryan laughed. “Oh no, no rehearsals for a whole week! Whatever will I do with all this free time?” 

“If that’s gonna be your attitude then I’ll double our schedule.” He smiled fondly and pushed Ryan’s shoulder in the direction of the changing room. “Now scram or you’ll be late.” Ryan gave him a two fingered salute and a grin and glanced at Gavin one last time before heading off to get ready. Simmons turned to the other boy, who had been standing awkwardly off to the side watching the exchange. 

“Sorry about him, Gavin. He can be kind of an ass sometimes, but then again aren’t we all. He’s great when you get to know him.” He leaned in close to whisper, “And don’t go blabbing about the phone thing to the actors. They’ll never stop of they start and we need all the control we can get over them.” 

“You got it,” he replied with a sly grin. 

…

Rehearsal was grueling that day. They started with their warm ups, then they drew lots to see who would go to dance and who went to vocals (Ryan got dance, which he liked more than the other but was still awful at), and now they were running the entire show. One and a half times. On book too, which made it slightly easier, but take twice as long as it should have. They were all sore and exhausted and had headaches from all the noise the construction crew was making outside with their set; why there was a chainsaw involved, no one could say. Trevor had showed up a few minutes after Ryan had left, so he elected to take Gavin around while Lindsay helped the actors. Ryan could see the two of them now sitting up above on the catwalk neck deep in various toolboxes and coils of new cables. 

It was almost nine-thirty at night by the time they were finished and packed up. Ryan had just walked into the storage room to get his backpack when Gavin, who had been slotting the boom mics back into their padded cases, spoke up. “I didn’t get to ask you before, but why does m–Simmons call you James if you go by Ryan?” 

Ryan leered at him. “What’s it matter to you?” It came out sounding a lot meaner than he intended it to, but he couldn’t bring himself to care at all about the other boy’s hurt expression. It had been a long day. 

“I was just wondering,” said Gavin, raising his hands defensively, “you don’t have to answer if you don’t want.” 

Ryan sighed and took a second before replying. “All the teachers here call me James. It’s what on the roll sheet so it’s easier I guess. It’s not a big deal.” Gavin made a thoughtful noise and there was a brief silence. “Anyway, I gotta go. Thanks for your help today; it was pretty nice not stopping for technical difficulties every ten minutes for once.” 

“Anytime. This job is more fun than I thought it’d be. See you tomorrow, Ryan.” Ryan gave him a small smile and a wave goodbye and walked out the door, missing the way that Gavin’s own smile turned into a concerned frown after he left. 

**_May 3rd_ **

James, James, James, James, James. It’s all he heard all day every day, and frankly it was getting a pretty annoying. Usually he could put up with it like he had been, but now that graduation was drawing nearer he dreaded the idea that he might get called the wrong name at the ceremony. Teachers he’d known for years still refused to call him by his preferred name, no matter how many times he asked them and how buddy-buddy they had gotten over the years. He trudged into rehearsal, thankful that at least they didn’t have dance practice that day; their choreographer was barely competent and never bothered to learn half their names, much less nicknames, but he was all their department could afford so he had to do. 

As he walked around the stage, he was greeted with a chorus of ‘hello’s and a very loud shout of ‘fuck me!’ as one of the construction crew (presumably) hit their hand with the hammer (again). 

“Oh! Ryan! I’m glad you’re here; I need to talk to you” said the director. Ryan hesitated a step. There was no way he just called him Ryan, was there? He must had misheard him over the howling laughter of the other students, but then again, the man was beckoning him over and there were no other ‘Ryan’s in the class. 

“What do you need Mr. Simmons?” 

“Costume fixed up a different outfit for you, and we got some shoes too which should fit better; the other stuff was all dreadfully old and looked like absolute shit. I want you to use the new stuff today so we can make adjustments early.” 

“Oh uh, sure. Okay. Is that all?” 

“Yep. Don’t forget we’re ending early because of the band recital today too— just running through Act 2 once. Let the others know in case they forgot.” 

“Um, alright. Will do. I’m gonna…go get ready now…” He gave a small wave to Gavin, who was standing next to Simmons taking attendance, as he turned to leave. Gavin smiled and raised his pencil in greeting before turning to resume talking to the director. 

…

Rehearsal had been…interesting to say in the least. What made it interesting wasn’t the fact that his shirt was entirely see-through and he was in tights and sole-less boots, or that the bannermen had punched out two stage lights’ wires with their poles, or that one of said stage lights had fallen down and almost knocked Lindsay out in the middle of her solo (she caught it, thankfully, so neither she nor the light were hurt); no, those were all fairly normal theatre happenings. What made it interesting was that every time the director had acknowledged him or stopped to give him direction he’d made sure to call him by his name and not his character, and to call him Ryan instead of James at that. 

“Ryan, move another step to the left.” 

“Kate, wait until Ryan moves to the front of the stage before you throw the pots.” 

“Ryan, please burn that outfit the second you get off stage the old one will do.” 

“You might need to work on your character a bit more, Ryan. Fred comes across as more… ‘football’, you know? Less ‘ambiguously gay theatre kid’.” Half the people on stage shared looks with one another. Simmons just looked offended at their apparent judgment. “What? I have a husband. I get to say that.” “We know, Simmons, you talk about him constantly.” “Then what’s the issue?” “This is high school theatre. We’re all gay here.” “Well act like you aren’t for the sake of our ticket revenue.”

After every time he said his name too, Simmons would glance to Gavin wherever he may be or what he was doing, and Gavin would either nod and smile or give a brief thumbs-up. It was pretty obvious what was going on. 

Ryan jogged back to the theatre after changing into his normal clothes an hour later just in time to see Gavin locking up the electronics room. The boy didn’t seem to notice he was there even when he walked right up to him. 

“It was you, wasn’t it.” 

Gavin startled at his sudden appearance and spun around, looking at him confusedly. “What? What was me?” 

“You’re the one who told our director to call me Ryan. You were next to him all afternoon.” 

Gavin just looked more confused. “Is…is that a bad thing? I thought you went by Ryan and not James?” 

“I mean- I do but- you didn’t have to do that,” he responded, shifting side to side anxiously. 

“Of course I did. Getting called the wrong name is a load of pap. If you want to be called Ryan I’ll make damn sure you get called Ryan.”

“Getting called something else is part of being an actor. No one gets called by their actual name here except to each other out of show.” 

“That’d be a good excuse if life was theatre, or if your character’s name was James, but neither of those things are true.” 

“Well…he’s just gonna forget anyways. He always does when I try to remind him” 

“Simmons?” Gavin asked incredulously, tugging his backpack over his shoulder, “nah, he’s pretty good with names once he gets the hang of it; you have to keep bothering him about it though. Took him almost a semester to start saying ‘Mister Free’ instead of ‘Miss Free’ since I only saw him once a week, but he’s got it now.” Gavin gave him a soft smile. “Don’t worry about it too much, Ryan, it’ll be fine. He sees you every day and you’re one of his favorite students. He’ll have it in rights in no time. I’ll see you tomorrow, Ryan.” He clapped the other boy on the shoulder reassuringly and jogged out the door before he could respond. Ryan watched him go, feeling a weird combination of slightly confused and greatly relieved as he watched Gavin race away. 

**_May 10th_ **

Ryan was having a really hard time keeping his face in character, and he could tell the other actors were as well. Rehearsal had ended almost an hour ago. It was time to get out of costume, put things away, and go home to eat something and hopefully take a chunk out of the huge pile of homework and study material he had waiting for him. But no, instead he and everyone else have to stay late and be in character and pose while Gavin took pictures for their flyers and the stupid show album. 

“Just a few more minutes, promise! I’m almost done.” Lindsay sighed audibly next to him, not even bothering to stay in face anymore and looking as bored as he felt. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jack and the rest of the construction crew putting away the last of their equipment and making their way towards the exit. Jack stuck his tongue and waved mockingly. They both flipped him off behind their backs and glowered. “There we go! I think I’ve got everything I need.” 

“Fucking. Finally.” Ryan huffed and let his posture droop into a slouch, his spine popping in a few spots with the movement. Lindsay patted his back as she made her way off stage with the rest of the cast. 

“It wasn’t _that_ bad, Ryan. Now come on. You were complaining about not getting to do your homework earlier and now you just stand around not doing anything.” 

“Don’t act like you didn’t hate it too, you hypocrite. I wanted to do my work three hours ago; now all my motivation to do anything other than sleep for three months has been sucked into Gavin’s camera and will never return to my soul.” 

Lindsay laughed. “I sometimes question why you do drama when you act like such a STEM-y guy, but then you say shit like that it’s obvious.” They changed quickly and said their goodbyes (Lindsay electing to just text Gavin later, as he was talking animatedly to the director when they saw him), before finally leaving. 

“Hey, remember to study for the history quiz this time; wouldn’t want Mr. Lopez tearing you a new one in front of the class again, now would we. We can Skype tonight if you want to study together?” 

Ryan groaned and dragged a hand down his cheek. “Ugh, shit, I forgot about that. I’ll text you when I get on. The 20’s are not my strong suit. Thanks, Linds.” They walked in silence to where Lindsay was parked, planning out how they were going to now fit studying into the rest of their work. Ryan stood off to the side as she got in the car and backed out, only snapping out of his thoughts when she stopped and rolled down the window. 

“Oh, and Ryan?” 

“Yeah, Linds?” 

“Try not to hate Gav too much. His photos take forever but just wait until you see them; they're absolutely worth the agony.” Ryan scoffed and headed towards his own spot as she drove off. 

…

Ryan walked into his 5th period classroom during lunch a few days later to see Gavin sitting at one of the newspaper class’s computers, steadfastly working away at something on the screen with music blaring through his earbuds. They were the only two in the room other than the teacher, who he offered a quick wave hello to, and Gavin hadn’t noticed his entrance yet. He walked over and tapped on the boy’s shoulder. Gavin jumped and ripped his headphones out as he spun around. 

“Huh? Ryan? You gave me right scare there, what do you need?” 

“Break is almost over. You should go get your food if you plan on eating something before the 

end of rehearsals.” 

“Oh shite I didn’t realize it had gotten so late. I was planning on just buying something but the cafeterias closed by now, innit?” 

“Yeah…that sucks, Gav. I still have half my lunch left. You can have it if you want.” 

“Really? But then what’ll you eat?” 

“I already had some and I’ll just get something else when I get home; it’s no big deal.” He smiled and dug the paper bag out of his backpack before tossing it to the other boy. “Besides, we can’t have you passing out in the middle of the play. You’re the tech guy. We’d be a shit show without you.” Gavin snickered and thanked him, and opened the bag up just to fall silent again. 

“Ryan.” 

“Yes Gavin?” 

“What the hell is this, Ryan.” 

“It’s lunch, duh.” 

“Ryan, this is three slices of white bread and a bag of cheese-its.” 

“And?” 

“Ryan how the hell do you look as good as you do if your meals consist of a bread sandwich, cheese crackers, and a Diet Coke.” 

Ryan shrugged, “I’m a teenage boy, I don’t know how I do anything. I’m not exactly complaining though.” He pulled a stool over next to Gavin’s and plopped himself down. “Now show me what pictures you took. You made me wait hours for you to finish its only fair I get to see them.” 

“Or,” replied Gavin, popping a cheese-it into his mouth, “you can just be patient and wait until I finish all of them to see them with the rest of the class.” Ryan looked unimpressed, and Gavin laughed and passed him the mouse after saving. “I kid, I kid; of course you can see them. Have at it Ry-bread.” 

Ryan smiled at the nickname and started to click through the photos as Gavin ate. They were nice really. They were better than nice. They were absolutely incredible, in fact. There were some generic cast photos of the bows line and plain scenes, there were some close ups of individuals during their solos and ensemble groups, there was a rather spectacular one of him trying to stand stoically while getting nailed in the back of the head by one of Kate’s flower pots and it shattering all over his shoulders; he laughed a bit at that one. There were some backstage photos too: a few of the crew working and passing props up to the stage that were posed like _The Creation of Adam_ , one of Bianca sat atop her throne of fake presents, some with the construction crew climbing all over the scaffolding like monkey bars with the sunset in the background, a rather nice one of him bent nearly double and crying with laughter at something a smug looking Lindsay had said, a silhouette of the director and Lindsay and Trevor standing side by side with their headsets on and their hands on their hips, admiring the finished and lit up stage. They were breathtaking. 

His rapture was broken by the shrill bell marking the end of the lunch period, and he looked up to see Gavin smiling gently at him. “I take it you like what you see?” Ryan nodded dumbly. 

“These are stunning, Gav, where’d you learn how to do this?” 

“I’m self taught, mostly,” he said, blushing lightly at the compliment. He saved his work one last time and ejected the SD card to pack up with the rest of his things. “Took some classes here and there but they don’t teach you much.” Ryan stood up next to him when rest of the class started coming in. “Guess this is my cue to leave, eh? I’ll see you at rehearsal. Good luck on your quiz!” He waved and a quick goodbye and ran out to get to his class in the few minutes he had left. 

“Wait, what qui-” he started to call after him but was cut off by a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see Lindsay standing beside to him with a disappointed look on her face. 

“You never called me last night, Haywood.”

…

Lindsay laughed incredulously as they walked to their cars after rehearsal. “You’re kidding, right? How did you not know Gavin was good? Did you think he was fucking around for two whole hours making us pose for photos that wouldn’t be good?” 

“How was I supposed to know!? I only ever see him during English and rehearsal and even during those he always seems to be too busy working or going on his phone to talk about anything.” 

“Dude, Ryan, Gavin’s the one who took all those pictures of my cats I have around my room that you accused me of printing off of the internet. He also does like, 40% of the school’s newspaper and yearbook and social media photography. The school calls on him to do most of the graduation and dance stuff too since they can’t afford a professional and Gavin’s willing to do it for food and tickets.” 

Ryan pulled out the copy of the photo Gavin had given each of them after school: the one of him and Lindsay standing side by side and with twin glares flipping off Jack, who was sticking his tongue out at them in the background. “He’s pretty good.” 

**_May 16th_ **

The theatre was nice at night: after hours when everyone else had gone home, the rush and claustrophobia of the room the night before a show opened having left with its usual inhabitants some time ago. Ryan loved it best like this, when he could practice in peace and not have to worry about people seeing him fumble words or mock the lines he was supposed to be rehearsing or mutter under his breath like a mad man trying to find a better way to play his part. Gavin loved it best like this because it meant he was free to fix the speakers and microphones and adjust lighting cues and cameras without the hassle of actors asking “does my makeup need more blending, Gavin?” “can you fix my tie for me, Gavin?” “can you put this prop behind that curtain for me, Gavin?” every five minutes despite his complaints that none of those were part of his job. 

Gavin stood up and stretched from where he was sat in a massive nest of audio cables. He’d finished sorting light and sound cues and organizing the equipment booth when the night janitor had come in to yell at them to go home a few hours ago, but then got caught up in studying for the upcoming AP English test. He looked out of the bay window towards the stage and saw Ryan was still on it, sitting cross legged and bent over his binder in the same spot he was last time Gavin gave him a glance. Deciding that he was thoroughly done with trying to analyze the philosophy of _Hamlet_ , he headed down to see if he could offer some help.

“Ryan?” he called from the stairs. When there was no response, he walked down the aisle to stand directly in front of the stage. “Ryan are you alright?” Still no response. Gavin squinted through the glare of the overhead lights and peered up at him to see if he was even paying attention; turns out he wasn’t, to anything. He was dead asleep: hunched uncomfortably over his script and snoring lightly. Gavin snickered and pulled out his phone to snap a picture of the sleeping boy to add to the album later, as well as a dumb selfie of the two of them to text to the group chat later. “Ryaaaan~” he drawled out, shaking Ryan’s knee in an attempt to wake him up. Luckily, it didn’t take much before he jolted awake. 

“…huh?” He looked blearily around at the empty auditorium before focusing on the boy in front of him. “Gavin? What are you still doing here?” 

“I said I’d stay late with you to work and lock up when we were done. I think it’s time to go home, lad.” Gavin nodded toward Ryan’s chin and mimed wiping off the drool off of it, much to Ryan’s embarrassment. 

He scrubbed his hands over his face and stretched as he stood up, groaning at the series of pops from his back and shoulders. “Yeah, probably. What time is it?” 

“Almost 2:30,” Gavin grimaced at the numbers displayed on his phone screen, “we have the exam in four hours…”

“2:30!? Fuck, my parents are going to murder me. My curfew was hours ago…” he lamented, trying fruitlessly to turn his own phone on before scrambling off the stage and throwing his things back in his bag. “Come on, we gotta go. I’ll give you a ride.” 

“What? No you’ll just end up getting home even later. I’ll just take the bus.” 

Ryan spared him a glance and shooed him back up to the booth. “I don’t know what busses you had back in England, Gav, but there’s absolutely nothing running at 3am here. Hurry up and grab your stuff and I’ll pull my truck around.” 

Five minutes later they were driving a little too fast down the road in Ryan’s hideous (“She functions and that’s all that matters, Gavin. We can’t all be pretty.” “You think I’m pretty?” “I think you’ll be sleeping on the sidewalk pretty soon if you keep me waiting.”) pick-up truck. 

“Did you get any studying done for the test? Or are you just going to wing it like you do in class?” Gavin asked a few minutes into the trip. 

“Hey, I plan things in class all the time, don’t give me that. And I think _Kiss me Kate_ is technically Shakespeare? I’ll just use that on the essay.” 

“You can try but you better know your script damn well. Remember Grif’s giant speech about how awful the essay part is supposed to be?” 

Ryan visibly shuddered. “Please don’t remind me. I’d like to have at least a shred of hope going into this.” 

Gavin flopped his head back against the seat and groaned loudly. “After today, I will literally keel over and die if I see a word longer than five syllables ever again.” 

Ryan laughed. “Amen to that, Gav.” They spent the rest of the drive in silence, listening to the shitty night radio playlists. 

“Thanks for the lift,” Gavin said, stepping down from the truck onto his drive. “Get whatever sleep you can and try not to get killed. It’d be a shame to waste those two hundred dollars you handed over.”

“Anytime, Gavin. Thanks for staying with me; I probably would have just slept through to first period if not for you. I’ll see you in a few hours, I guess.”

“If you could run me over when you get to school, I’d love you forever. G’night, Rye.” He turned and jogged up the steps, giving Ryan a smile and a wave goodbye as he slipped quietly into the house.

Ryan smiled and waved back, and waited until the door had shut before nearly flooring it back to his own house.

…

When Gavin saw Ryan walk up to him twenty minutes before the English exam looking sheepish (“sorry I didn’t manage to turn you into pavement; maybe this will make up for it?”) with two gigantic coffees in hand, he a little too enthusiastically accepted the quadruple shot latte in lieu of a proper greeting.

…

When Ryan walked into the theatre after the disaster that was the afternoon AP Physics exam, Gavin was waiting for him with a six pack of energy drinks to split and a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

…

When the orchestra walked in to find the two of them napping together in the pit there was a moment of hushed giggling followed by a very, very loud trumpet shriek, followed by a very, very late-for-makeup Ryan sprinting towards the classroom and a very, very flustered looking Gavin.

**_May 26th_ **

Ryan stretched tall and grinned to himself as he walked out of the classroom. It was a good night: not too hot with a nice breeze, the last night of the show had gone spectacularly even with all the off-script dialogue and jokes in the name of ‘last day improv’, he was graduating _next week_ ; all he had left to do was to check that the doors to the theatre were locked and he was home free. 

Needless to say, he was very confused when he got to the building and saw that the lights were on. Usually on last days everyone just went home or went to the afterparty; the cleaning up could be done another day when everyone wasn’t exhausted from school and ready for a night of Just Dance tournaments and far too much cheese pizza and root beer. Ryan was even more confused when he opened the door and walked inside to hear a familiar voice belting out the lyrics to one of the show’s songs from behind the stage. 

_“In love with the night mysterious,_  
_The night when you first were there,_  
_In love with my joy delirious,_  
_When I knew that you could care,”_

He crept closer to the source of the singing and saw Gavin; with his arms full of various props and furniture and wrapped up in one of Kate’s gauzy, blue wraps; doing some sort of twirl-stumble-waltz movement towards the prop room. It was a miracle that he wasn’t dropping anything or banging it into the walls, really. Ryan smiled and leaned himself against the doorframe and watched the boy work once he was inside and too caught up in putting things away to notice he had an audience. 

_“So taunt me, and hurt me,_  
_Deceive me, desert me,_  
_I'm yours, till I die.....”_

If Ryan was being completely honest; Gavin’s singing was completely and utterly awful. He could see why he was so reluctant to take up an empty chorus role or even sing along with the rest of the crew as they poked fun at the actors during breaks. It was off-key, off-tempo, probably wouldn’t even sound better with a backing track, but it was also somehow…very sweet, Ryan thought. Gavin put more heart and emotion into the lyrics than their Kate could ever dream of, even if he sounded hilariously bad. 

_“So in love.... So in love...._  
_So in love with you, my love..._  
_Am I....”_

Gavin stuffed some hats back into their crate just as the song trailed off, and plucked out a crown curiously. “Hamlet, if you were wondering. We did that one last year.” Ryan said, pushing off from the wall. 

“Wot? Ryan!?” His sudden speech startled Gavin, who whirled around to face him and ended up flinging the crown onto the floor with a sharp crack. They both stared at it (and its various scattered pieces) in frozen shock for a minute before Gavin spoke again, wearing the most ridiculously exaggerated pout Ryan had seen someone do. “Ryan, you really need to stop scaring me, Ryan. I knew this was going to happen one of these times and now look, you made me break something.” Ryan barked out a laugh and bent down to pick it up. 

“It’s no big deal, Gav, don’t worry. Last show of the year anyways, so no one will know if it was you or the rats that come in during break” he said as he inspected the damage. A large chip was missing from the big arch in the front, and a few of the gems had fallen of and the paint scraped, revealing the ugly rust-red plastic underneath. Ryan dusted off the floor lint and put it on his head, flashing the other boy a lopsided grin. “Besides, I think it looks a lot cooler like this. Much more ‘Mad King’-y, you know?” 

Gavin stared at him in complete bewilderment before cracking up. “I’m quaking in my boots. I hope the Great Mad King Ryan can’t smell fear or it’ll be ‘off with my head’ an’ all that.” 

Ryan laughed too, “I’m not the Queen of Hearts, Gav. The Mad King doesn’t let his denizens off so easy as with a simple beheading.” He smirked when Gavin’s laugh turned a little uneasy, and clapped him on the shoulder. “Anyways!” he said, pulling off the crown and throwing it carelessly into the box, “What are you doing here and not at the after party?” 

He shrugged. “Didn’t really feel like going. What about you though? It’s weird that the bloody lead of the play isn’t at the party, innit?”

“Eh, house parties aren’t really my thing. If I wanted to hang out with a bunch of sweaty, adrenaline-high underclassmen I’d just go to one of the pep rallies. The river picnic is better.” 

“Fair enough.” Gavin turned to head out the door after he put away the last of the things he had brought in. “If you want to head home then I’ll lock the place up for you when I’m done. I might be a while longer.” 

“Or,” Ryan said, stepping to the side to let him pass and following him over to the prop tables, “I can stay here and help you, and we can trade dumb stories about the other actors.” He barely had time to catch the plastic flower pot being hurled at him. Gavin already had his arms full of more of them. 

“If you’re gonna help then help, don’t just stand there looking pretty,” he said with a smile as he turned back towards the room, “not that it’s unappreciated, but we’ll be here all night if that’s all you do.” 

Ryan rushed to gather up more odds and ends before trotting to catch up to him. “Speaking of unappreciated, I don’t think the building cared for your rendition of ‘ _So In Love_ ’ very much,” he joked. 

“Don’t you know it’s rude to eavesdrop, Ryan?” Gavin said, blushing and looking somewhat mortified. At least Ryan had the decency to look a bit shy as he passed Gavin books to put on the shelf. 

“Sorry, Gav, but I don’t think it’s technically eavesdropping when you were the one singing at the top of your lungs in an acoustics oriented building. Besides, you’re not the worst I’ve heard, even though you’re really fucking terrible.” He chuckled when Gavin turned around to give him a look and punch him in the shoulder. “I’m not kidding! There was this one time when we were doing _Annie _and Geoff…”__

__…_ _

____

They only remembered to leave after the night janitor had come in to yell at them to go home already if they weren’t going to do anything other than lay on the stage and make a ruckus. 

____

__

____

**_June 2nd_ **

____

_  
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____

It was a nice end to the year, Ryan thought. 

____

The class was having their annual end-of-the-show-year get together on the edge of the river. The setting sun painted the sky into a sea of reds and pinks and violets and cooled the temperature enough to be comfortable, even for being the middle of summer. Cases of warm soda and cheap beer and bags of hours old Taco Bell were being passed around. Some students had anchored inner tubes and were hanging out in the water. A couple of the seniors, some of them still in their graduation gowns, were sitting in front of a ring of laughing underclassmen and telling (only sort of exaggerated) stories of past productions and students and the weird shenanigans that may or may not have happened. 

____

The two of them were sat on the edge of the boat ramp with their pants rolled up and their feet in the water. Gavin kicked his feet back and forth slowly and watched the ripples he made. Ryan watched the fireflies dance through the trees. 

____

“So, Gavin” Ryan said suddenly. 

____

“Yes Rye?” 

____

“Do you maybe…want to go out… sometime? With me?” 

____

Gavin stopped kicking his feet, and there was a moment of silence before he responded. “I think I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.” 

____

“Gae-great! That’s great!” The two grinned at each other before dissolving into giggles at Ryan’s flub. 

____

“So, Ryan” Gavin said a few minutes later. 

____

“Yes Gav?” 

____

“Does this mean I get to kiss you now?” Gavin would swear it was just the sunset reflecting off the river, but Ryan was pretty sure he was blushing. Ryan’s pretty sure he was blushing just as much. 

____

“Yes Gavin, it does.” 

____

And they did. 

____

And they kissed again, this time sprawled on the shore still half in the water with Lindsay, Trevor, and their professional-sound-designer-turned-drunk-party-dj Jeremy leading the rest of the class in a loud, absolutely horrific rendition of _From This Moment On_. Ryan was definitely going to make they pay later for ruining their moment by shoving them off the dock mid-kiss and making them swim all the way back to shore, but right now, having the time of his life and with Gavin in his arms, he couldn’t really bring himself to care. Sooner or later the sun would set and they’d be cold, and the bonfire would refuse to light as it did every year, and the truck’s already terrible upholstery would get waterlogged during the drive back; but Gavin would still be his, and he would still be Gavin’s, and that’s all that mattered tonight. 

____

**Author's Note:**

> catch me at spaceholts.tumblr.com. im always taking prompts and suggestions though they sometimes might take a while


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